Think about it
by Lisa12
Summary: Post Scary Monsters, Doggett's got a complex and must come to terms with what he believes and why, and with a little help from Scully, it's easier than he imagined. Please R/R :)
1. Default Chapter

Title: Think about it.  
  
Author: Lisa Email: lc7685@hotmail.com Disclaimer: I don't own the show, characters, original idea etc. etc. Rating: PG (PG in Australia's probably the equivalent of PG-13) Category: D/R Setting: Post Scary Monsters, but no to only maybe tiny spoilers :) Notes: This is much longer than I intended. I thought it'd be a two pager. Try twenty. Meh :P I got myself drowned in fluff. Ahhhh the goodness! :D Thanks for the feedback! It's always greatly appreciated and is excellent encouragement! I wanted to look at what Monica and John would be like if they took a chance to relax a little and since I'm still getting to know the characters, they may not be as solid as some other fics, but meh, hope you enjoy nonetheless! :D  
  
Scully arched a very impressively groomed eyebrow as she read the report she was holding in her hands. Her eyes drifted up and to the left, glancing at Monica, who was watching eagerly.  
  
"What do you think?" she asked. Scully looked back down at the report, disbelieving.  
  
"I'm...impressed." Monica grinned. "Shocked, even." Scully handed the papers back to Monica, who shoved them back into a file and put it on John's desk, which she'd taken it off. "Did you help him?" Scully asked as Monica turned back to her, leaning against her own desk.  
  
"No, he did it all by himself." Scully shook her head, a small smile on her lips.  
  
"A little over a year and he's writing reports concluding the inconclusive. It's so...-"  
  
"Dana can I ask you something?" Scully looked up as Monica cut her off.  
  
"Of course."  
  
"When you came to the X Files, did you feel any kind of pressure, to be like Mulder?"  
  
"Not really."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Truthfully?" Scully asked. Monica nodded. "I thought Mulder was a little uh..."  
  
"Spooky?" Scully laughed.  
  
"Insane," she replied after a second to compose herself. "I thought he was a nutter. But, after a couple of cases I, well, let's say I lied to myself for a long time because I didn't want to think I was as nutty as him." Not completely true, Scully knew, but she and Monica were having a bit of fun, and she was having a particularly good day.  
  
"You're not."  
  
"Thankyou, I think," Scully replied. "But why the original question?"  
  
"Well, Leyla, she's-"  
  
"Interesting," Scully suggested.  
  
"I just never thought Mulder and Scully had groupies."  
  
"What do you think you and John are?" Scully asked, laughing as Monica grinned.  
  
"Oh, yeah, forgot about that!"  
  
"Leyla's very, 'very', open," Scully stated. "But she's also very accepting, and that's why she's not here, and we are."  
  
"You think she's gullible?"  
  
"I don't know her that well, Monica."  
  
"No, I guess not."  
  
"You still haven't answered my question."  
  
"Oh, don't worry. You explained it."  
  
"I did?" Scully paused. "Listen, Monica, if you're worried that you won't live up to my standards, you know-" Monica rolled her eyes and Scully laughed. They were enjoying this. John had been sent out to get lunches because Scully was working and Monica was "recovering", as she had put it with a grin plastered across her face, even though there had been nothing to recover from. John bought it with a groan then a chuckle, and she knew she was in the clear. Since he'd left, Monica and Scully had been mucking around a little more than usual, and had gone through John's report on the Conlon case.  
  
*  
  
Scully left an hour and a half later for Quantico, leaving John and Monica to tie up a couple of loose ends in the reports.  
  
"Monica can you read over this for me?" John asked, handing her his report. She sat at her desk while he stood opposite it, and looked up, smiling.  
  
"It's fine, John." John's brow creased.  
  
"How do you know? You haven't read it yet." A look passed over Monica's face, reminiscent of the look young children get when they realise they've been caught out by their parents.  
  
"Well actually, I had a look over the file while you were getting lunch. It's fine, John."  
  
"I dunno. It sounds..." He sighed as though he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.  
  
"It sounds like you fully understand and believe what happened. That's great."  
  
"I don't understand it."  
  
"This is the X Files, John. You're not meant to fully understand what happens, but you have to sound like you do."  
  
"Oh," John stated. Monica smiled, reaching out and touching his arm affectionately.  
  
"What's the matter? I couldn't have written it better. Scully loved it. I think it reminded her of something Mulder wrote."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Well she was shocked that you had written it, of course, but she was smiling." Monica nodded as though that were all John should need to hear.  
  
"Hmm," John mumbled, moving back to his desk. After several minutes came an even louder sigh, accompanied by an "Ah, dammit!"  
  
"What?" Monica asked.  
  
"I can't sign this."  
  
"Yes you can. Can't you see? You're finally accepting that strange things happen."  
  
"I accepted that a long time ago."  
  
"Yeah but you've never submitted reports to Skinner accepting it. Sign it. Otherwise all this time, it's just been a waste."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"John, I don't hold it against you, but you're much nicer to be around when you're being honest with yourself. So sign it." She looked back down at her own statement and crossed a punctuation mark out, hearing John's chair scrape along the ground as he got up.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Nothing. Don't worry," Monica replied, feeling him on the other side of the desk but not looking up.  
  
"No, I want to know."  
  
"I know some things in life are hard to accept," Monica began after a long time spent choosing her words carefully. "When I was younger, all the way up into my early twenties, I had a hard time accepting that I'd never know who my parents were-"  
  
"You could-"  
  
"They're sealed and I don't want to," Monica cut him off before he could even really start. "And there are other things that I've had to come to terms with, like death." She looked up and met his eyes. "But I've always been able to accept that sometimes there are anomalies in this world, the spiritual world, and in the human race. That's our work, right? This report you wrote proves that now you accept it too. It's proof."  
  
"Maybe I don't want this to be proof and I'll rewrite it."  
  
"Maybe, but then you'll be lying to yourself. You know what you saw. Even Scully describes things she saw, and offers all possible explanations. All. She's just non-conclusive in a lot of her reports. You're being conclusive in this one, John. You're doing what Scully couldn't do for years. Don't you see that?"  
  
"That's not true," he stated emphatically, getting worked up.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"If I sign this report you're saying that it says I believe in all this stuff."  
  
"Not all this stuff, just the case-"  
  
"Well that's not true."  
  
"You don't believe what happened? John-" Monica went to comment and offer a large smile but John cut her off, firing himself up.  
  
"What happened, happened. I can't be sure of it and neither can you."  
  
"I'm sure of it."  
  
"Well I'm not you, Monica. And I don't wanna be. I don't wanna be like you and I don't wanna be like Mulder!" The silence that followed was unmistakably pained. Monica pushed herself up out of her chair slowly. She'd been sitting down the whole time and had only just begun to feel uncomfortable. Now she stood across from him, meeting his height and still feeling insignificant, her mouth open.  
  
"Well you're not Mulder, John," she managed, reaching for her bag and coat. "And you don't have to be like me." She stepped around her desk and walked out, stopping first at the door. John hadn't turned around to see her, so she spoke to his back. "I never asked you to be like me John. I'm sorry if I gave you that impression. I just wanted you to be...you." Her words reached John's ears and slowly sank in. By the time he'd spun around on his heel she'd gone. 


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Think about it.  
  
Author: Lisa Email: lc7685@hotmail.com Disclaimer: I don't own the show, characters, original idea etc. etc. Rating: PG (PG in Australia's probably the equivalent of PG-13) Category: D/R Setting: Post Scary Monsters, but no to only maybe tiny spoilers :) Notes: This is much longer than I intended. I thought it'd be a two pager. Try twenty. Meh :P I got myself drowned in fluff. Ahhhh the goodness! :D Thanks for the feedback! It's always greatly appreciated and is excellent encouragement! I wanted to look at what Monica and John would be like if they took a chance to relax a little and since I'm still getting to know the characters, they may not be as solid as some other fics, but meh, hope you enjoy nonetheless! :D  
  
John was sitting on his chair, staring at the back wall when the door behind him opened, silence following.  
  
"Monica, I-" he started.  
  
"I'm not Monica," Scully stated, walking in and resting several files on her desk. "Last time I checked anyway," she added with a smile. Must be a good day, John thought. It had been a great day, in actual fact, up until an hour or so ago. She still wasn't back.  
  
Scully watched John watching her, and then as his gaze slid from her to the poster. Scully walked to lean against the desk next to John.  
  
"Do you want to believe, John?" she asked.  
  
"That's what I've been sittin' here trying to work out," he replied.  
  
"Where's Monica?"  
  
"I dunno."  
  
"I tried calling her on my way back but I got her voicemail."  
  
"She could be at home."  
  
"Why would she be at home? You know when I left this morning the atmosphere was much less...solemn, and there were two of you. What happened?"  
  
"She wants to believe," John sighed.  
  
"She doesn't have to want to. She already does. What happened?"  
  
"I think, I uh, might've hurt her feelings."  
  
"It's pretty hard to hurt Monica's feelings, John-"  
  
"No, it's much easier than you think." He shook his head. "I'm such a-"  
  
"Don't finish that. There's nothing wrong with you. What happened? She walked out or did you order her out?"  
  
"She walked out."  
  
"Well that's the better of the two. Go on."  
  
"I, I can't tell you. I don't want to hurt your feelings."  
  
"John, just tell me."  
  
"It was about the report. The Conlon one."  
  
"Mm?" Take your time, why don't you John, Scully thought dryly.  
  
"Monica said that if I signed it, then I was accepting what happened, and I realised that I wasn't ready and she said I was and something else and I said I didn't want to be like her or Agent Mulder."  
  
"Whatever made you think you had to be?"  
  
"This is the X Files. Those two are...perfect for it- Didn't you ever feel way out of your depth?"  
  
"All the time at first. After surviving a couple of close encounters I got more confident. This is all this is, John. You're becoming more comfortable with this job. Lately, you've had real X Files to deal with, and since Monica came, you've got a naturally open-minded person's opinion to contend with."  
  
"Taken long enough," John replied, referring to being comfortable in the job. If he could call it that.  
  
"You don't train for this job over a couple of weeks' orientation."  
  
"Yeah, it's just-"  
  
"What?"  
  
"The thing is, I don't believe in...all this. I don't believe in spaceships. Do you?"  
  
"Yes. How can you not believe in spaceships, after that piece-"  
  
"Well...see that's the problem."  
  
"Seeing is believing, Agent Doggett." John sighed, placing his head in his hands.  
  
"I'm gonna go insane sitting here trying to think about it."  
  
"Then don't." He looked up at Scully and she shrugged. "Don't think, just do. Every case. Just call it like you see it. If you come up with an interesting theory just say it. In all honesty, you could blame the next case on poltergeists and Monica would actually consider it, once she'd regained consciousness of course." Scully laughed when she saw John smile. "You solved this case John. You saved lives. Don't think about how you did it, think about why you did it, then it all makes sense."  
  
"I solved this case because I'm boring and unimaginative."  
  
"Now that's not true. I can picture you as a father, John, and you would not be a boring or unimaginative one. In fact I'm sure you weren't."  
  
"Mm."  
  
"So, why'd you do it?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Why'd you solve this case? Don't think about how, think about why."  
  
"Because he was going to kill us all."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because the little kid's evil."  
  
"You believe in evil, John?"  
  
"Absolutely."  
  
"When did that revolution take place?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Well I seem to recall several cases in which Monica thought evil was a pretty important factor, and you dismissed them. Van Allen, Fassel, that demon case from a while back. You gave her hell over them- Did you not believe in evil then or were you too afraid to tell her you did."  
  
"Why would I be afraid to tell her that?"  
  
"Because you weren't ready yet."  
  
"Ready for what?"  
  
"Think about it." Scully checked her watch. "Are you going to sign the report or not, because I have to get it to Skinner so I can pick William up from mum." John turned around in his chair and stared at the piece of paper, a pen in his hand. "It doesn't matter to anyone here what you believe Agent Doggett, as long as you believe in something," Scully urged as John signed the report. 


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Think about it.  
  
Author: Lisa Email: lc7685@hotmail.com Disclaimer: I don't own the show, characters, original idea etc. etc. Rating: PG (PG in Australia's probably the equivalent of PG-13) Category: D/R Setting: Post Scary Monsters, but no to only maybe tiny spoilers :) Notes: This is much longer than I intended. I thought it'd be a two pager. Try twenty. Meh :P I got myself drowned in fluff. Ahhhh the goodness! :D Thanks for the feedback! It's always greatly appreciated and is excellent encouragement! I wanted to look at what Monica and John would be like if they took a chance to relax a little and since I'm still getting to know the characters, they may not be as solid as some other fics, but meh, hope you enjoy nonetheless! :D  
  
Monica was sitting at her kitchen bench, drinking a cup of coffee and flicking through a novel. She couldn't concentrate and preferred to pretend to be doing something than admit to doing nothing. In actual fact, she was paying more attention to the hair from her ponytail hitting the sides of her neck when she shifted her head from side to side. She felt bad for leaving John. Looking back she should have stayed and they should have worked it out, but she knew that she wasn't in the wrong here, and he truly had hurt her feelings. She should have at least called Dana to let her know what had happened, but she hadn't had the energy. After walking down to the local coffee shop and gathering herself for a while, she'd walked back, collected her car and driven home. She'd called her parents and had since been busy doing absolutely anything to keep her mind off work.  
  
Monica managed a small smile. In truth, it wasn't work she couldn't stop thinking about. It was John. Did he really think that? Had she, for all this time, mistakenly believed that he liked her when really he was repulsed by her ideas and ultimately by her. She shook her head, knowing that wasn't right but without anything to compare his most recent statement to, she didn't know what to think.  
  
There was a shuffle towards her door and she looked up sharply, mentally noting that her gun was in the drawer to her left. It was a piece of white paper, folded.  
  
"Stupid takeout menus," she cursed, sighing and standing, not being able to stand it just sitting on the floor there next to the door.  
  
Monica got closer and realised that in fact, it wasn't a menu. She knelt down and glanced at it. On one half and in black crayon there was writing.  
  
For Monica.  
  
It looked like a child's handwriting but Monica knew only one child in Washington, and while she believed William was an extraordinary boy, he wasn't that extraordinary! She stayed crouched to the floor, lifting the piece of paper and opening it up.  
  
Monica hadn't laughed since that morning with Scully, but burst out laughing as soon as she saw what was on the inside of the paper. There was a picture of a door. A brown door that was being held open by a stick figure. This particular stick figure had long brown hair and looked sad. There was another stick person in the drawing, and Monica wasn't exaggerating when she said stick person. The black crayon had drawn one line for each arm, one for each leg, and one for the body. Thankfully both stick figures were clothed. The one holding the door open was in - Monica glanced down at herself - exactly that. Dark brown suit, white shirt - although it was cream in the picture. Monica guessed white crayons were pretty useless on white paper. The other figure was clothed in a black suit. This person had short brown hair and Monica noticed the blue eyes more than anything else. The figure's mouth was in an open circle. A primitive speech bubble was protruding to the right and inside was written, 'Open the door'.  
  
By now Monica's laugh had subsided and she was smiling, if not blushing. She stood, opening the door. John took a step forward and watched her expression carefully, trying to work out how she'd taken it. Monica's eyes widened to see that he actually was there, waiting for her.  
  
"Can you come in?" Monica asked. He nodded as she stepped aside, shutting the door behind him.  
  
"Monica-"  
  
"I underestimated your talent, John." She walked into the kitchen and found a couple of animal magnets in a drawer. She chose a fluffy, brown dog and stuck the drawing to the fridge. "Is that okay?" she asked. "Or a little to the left?"  
  
"It's uh, good," John managed. Was this an, 'I forgive you'? He didn't know, and he had to hear it.  
  
"Monica I'm sorry about today. I, I signed the report."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I know what I did and I know why."  
  
"It's okay, John."  
  
"No, wait. Monica, I really want to explain myself."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"I, I haven't behaved that badly since Barb, and you're not my ex-wife and so I shouldn't treat you like one. I want you to know that I signed the report." Monica nodded and John got the feeling that she already knew that he had. "Sometimes I just don't understand the hows or the whys. Actually, a lot of the time-"  
  
"Sometimes I don't understand either, John."  
  
"I know." There was an awkward silence before John continued. "When I said that I didn't want to be like you or Agent Mulder, I didn't-"  
  
"John."  
  
"Mon, let me finish." Monica mouthed a 'sorry' and he returned to his train of thought. "I didn't mean that the way you are isn't good, or that I don't like it." Monica remained silent even though he allowed her time to interject. "I didn't, I mean I think the fact you can believe all this stuff is amazing. I meant what I said on the Fassel case. If you can accept it, Mon, then God love 'ya, because it makes you special. You got all that?" Monica couldn't believe what she was hearing. This was John opening up. This was John actually 'talking' - or as close as he could get at this point in time. She stood, stock still, watching him with an open mouth and with tears in her eyes. "Mon?" he asked, realising she was non-responsive. Her eyes flicked on him and he took a step closer. "You got all that?" She nodded.  
  
"Yeah," she managed.  
  
"Maybe I should repeat it, just to be clear." He took yet another step closer and Monica felt heat rising to her cheeks. "I respect and admire you and you being able to do this job so well makes you a real special person. And I'm sorry for what I said. Sometimes it frustrates me that I'm not like Mulder, and that everyone expects me to be."  
  
"You think I love living in Scully's shadow? She's so clever-"  
  
"She's a doctor. It comes with the title. Frankly, I don't want you to be Scully."  
  
"No?"  
  
"Sometimes Scully and I think the same way, and it's damn boring. A lot of the time I don't understand you, but that's what makes it so interesting. Fun." Monica began to smile.  
  
"I never expected you to be Mulder. If I pushed anything-"  
  
"You didn't. It was about time I accepted something. So, I did."  
  
"What did you accept?"  
  
"That some people with very vivid imaginations can bring those fantasies to life." He handed her another piece of paper. It was folded in half, like the first, and had, 'For Monica', written on it as well. Monica opened it and smiled. On one side the stick figures were hugging, and on the other side they were sitting opposite each other at the table. She looked up. John spread his arms. "Take you to dinner?" Monica laughed, taking a step forward.  
  
"I'd love that," she answered as he wrapped his arms around her. Monica had hugged John before, but it had never been this mutually comforting. She hugged him back fiercely, pouring everything she'd been feeling that day into the embrace, feeling him do the same. After a while she pulled back. "Can I get changed first? Where are we going?"  
  
"Sure. Uh...I thought we'd try the new Chinese restaurant," John said as she broke off and made her way to her room.  
  
"Oh, John, hang it on the fridge!" she called behind her, the bedroom door closing with a soft click. John walked over to the fridge and found another magnet - two cats, one grey one white, with a ball of wool - to hold up the page. It was the cutest magnet he'd ever seen. Where did she find these things? He clicked it onto the fridge underneath the first, and smiled to himself.  
  
Monica returned five minutes later. Her hair was now out and around her shoulders and she was wearing a floral skirt with the same white shirt. The white of the shirt matching the white in the pattern. Over that she had her tan jacket that also, coincidentally, matched parts of the pattern on the skirt. How did women do this? John found it ultimately amazing that they had this much co-ordination.  
  
"The one down the street?" she asked.  
  
"Yep," John replied, trying not to stare. He'd seen Monica in suits and jeans. The only skirts he'd seen her in were formal, and that was...he couldn't remember. This was a deep navy, shin length, skirt made of thin, swishy material. Monica noticed him glancing at the skirt.  
  
"It's new," she explained.  
  
"It's very nice."  
  
"I know the place we're going to. It's heated and I thought I should put it on. Or I never would. It's my only one."  
  
"Your only what?"  
  
"Skirt. I mean, apart from work-" John shrugged.  
  
"Ready?" She held up a finger.  
  
"Just a sec." She turned the corner and inspected the fridge in the kitchen. Emitting a satisfied hum, she walked past him and held the front door open. "I knew you'd choose that magnet," she added with a smile as he walked past her.  
  
"You got your bag?" John asked, pretending he didn't hear it just to make her blush. It worked.  
  
"Everything I need is in these pockets." She put both hands against her hips, where the pockets to her jacket were situated. "You got your wallet, well, my wallet, in the left, and anything else important in the right."  
  
"Ahuh," John stated as Monica laughed, locking the front door and walking out. "Walking or driving?"  
  
"Walking. This area's well lit. It'll be fun." 


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Think about it.  
  
Author: Lisa Email: lc7685@hotmail.com Disclaimer: I don't own the show, characters, original idea etc. etc. Rating: PG (PG in Australia's probably the equivalent of PG-13) Category: D/R Setting: Post Scary Monsters, but no to only maybe tiny spoilers :) Notes: This is much longer than I intended. I thought it'd be a two pager. Try twenty. Meh :P I got myself drowned in fluff. Ahhhh the goodness! :D Thanks for the feedback! It's always greatly appreciated and is excellent encouragement! I wanted to look at what Monica and John would be like if they took a chance to relax a little and since I'm still getting to know the characters, they may not be as solid as some other fics, but meh, hope you enjoy nonetheless! :D  
  
"So is taking me to dinner one of your fantasies that you've accepted?" Monica asked as she took a bite of a prawn cracker.  
  
"No," John laughed. Monica looked hurt but he leant over and whispered, "It was the hugging part." Monica laughed as they leant back.  
  
They continued talking about this and that and eventually got onto the topics of pets. Again.  
  
"I was thinking of getting one, actually," Monica said. "But that was this afternoon while I was feeling useless and unwanted." John smirked as she tweaked her eyebrow coyly. He shook his head, trying not to laugh.  
  
"Well why don't you anyway? What do you want?"  
  
"I was thinking about getting a cat."  
  
"Oh no," John stated. "No way."  
  
"What?"  
  
"See, you wanted to get a cat because you thought I..."  
  
"I thought you didn't like me."  
  
"Honestly Monica that's the silliest-"  
  
"Ah!" Monica exclaimed with her 'don't-go-there-or-I'll-get-peeved' voice.  
  
"Wait, let me finish. The silliest version of what actually happened, but anyway..." He waited for her to back down, and she did. "You're not getting a cat."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because-"  
  
"The truth is," Monica said. "That neither of us could cope with anything but a cat."  
  
"Mulder had fish," John added in. "What about fish?"  
  
"You have to feed them. The thing about cats is that they run away and feed themselves."  
  
"You really were feeling unwanted weren't you?"  
  
"Would I lie?" John pretended to think and she kicked him under the table.  
  
"Ow!" he exclaimed. Monica chuckled, taking a risk and leaving her leg stretched next to his. To her surprise, he didn't back away, smiling at her across the table instead. She smiled back. This whole her being in pain thing must have really scared him into feeling something, not that she was complaining. The look in his eyes was exceptional.  
  
"Hmm," she hummed thoughtfully after several minutes of comfortable silence. John looked at her but didn't say anything. "John don't take this the wrong way or anything, but I had an idea."  
  
"Okay. I'm all ears."  
  
"Well we both think the other should get a dog, but we both agree we couldn't possibly be responsible for it with our jobs. What if we went halves in one?"  
  
"Would you get the back half?" John asked.  
  
"I'm being serious!" Monica laughed.  
  
"Even if you were - being serious - what about when we both go away. We do work together you know."  
  
"Good point," Monica stated, and went back to the drawing board.  
  
"Great idea though," John added. Monica looked up at him.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yeah. Hey do you want desert here or can we go down get some gelato?"  
  
"You like gelato?" Monica asked.  
  
"It's all ice cream to me but yeah." Monica smiled, reaching into her pocket for her purse.  
  
"Go you halves?"  
  
"Mon, this is my way of saying sorry-"  
  
"You can pay for the ice cream."  
  
"And at first impression I'd think you were cultured! Gelato."  
  
"Yeah, that." She looked at him expectantly.  
  
"Oh okay." Monica grinned, handing him a couple of notes. He stood and paid and she stood to meet him as they left.  
  
*  
  
"Did I ever tell ya you got a great deal on that place?" John began as they were walking back to Monica's with ice cream - as they'd decided to call it.  
  
"Yep. It's close to everything, isn't it?"  
  
"Really close."  
  
"Well, not 'really' close. But close," Monica insisted.  
  
"Close is close, Mon."  
  
"No it's not," she replied, smirking.  
  
"Yeah it is. There's no difference."  
  
"So would you consider us close?" she asked, stopping to look at him at the corner of her street. He looked back.  
  
"Uh...What kind of close do you mean?"  
  
"See, there's more than one type."  
  
"How many types of close do you think there are?"  
  
"Two," she replied definitely.  
  
"What are they? Last time I checked, you were either close or you weren't."  
  
"You're either not close, you're close, or you're closer. See?" Monica explained. John didn't get it.  
  
"Mmhmm." She laughed.  
  
"Maybe someday you'll see what I mean." John shrugged.  
  
"Okay."  
  
They got to Monica's house and, ice cream finished, were left standing opposite each other.  
  
"Thankyou, John. For tonight. You didn't have to-"  
  
"I wanted to. You deserve to be taken out every now and then I reckon. Since this job keeps us moving all the time."  
  
"Yeah," she managed. "Well, thanks. Deserving or not I had a great time." John smiled. "You wanna come up for a coffee? Take the edge off that ice cream?"  
  
"Take the edge off the ice cream, give me a new one?" Monica laughed, but didn't reply, leaving the offer on the table. "Sure, why not," John added after a moment. He followed her up to the door and as she turned the handle reached down and took his hand in hers, opening the door. Woah, John thought, feeling an instant warmth rush through him. She squeezed his hand gently and he held it tightly in return, before she let go, locking her front door behind them.  
  
"Coffee, tea-"  
  
"Ah, you promised coffee."  
  
"Coffee it is." As Monica poured herself a cup of coffee along with John, she knew she wouldn't be getting to sleep for several hours thanks to the caffeine rush this was going to give her. "Milk?" she offered. "You know, seeing as it's actually night time and we probably don't want to be running around like loonies on a high tonight."  
  
"Sure, I'll do it," John replied, walking forward and grabbing the milk out of the fridge. "Oh guess what I discovered?" he began as Monica took her cup in her hands and led him over to the couch. They took a seat.  
  
"What?"  
  
"My neighbour's having an affair with his babysitter!" Monica's mouth opened.  
  
"Do I want to know how you know that?"  
  
"I'll tell you anyway. I saw them making out through the window."  
  
"John!"  
  
"Hey they should've closed their curtains!"  
  
"That's awful- I would never have done that when I was younger! When you say babysitter, do you mean-"  
  
"Maybe seventeen, maybe nineteen."  
  
"Close enough!" Monica insisted. John laughed.  
  
"There you go with the close again! Now is that closer or just close?"  
  
"It's too close."  
  
"Then there's not two different types of close!"  
  
"When it comes to you and me, there is," Monica replied.  
  
"Is there?"  
  
"Yes," Monica calmly explained. "I'd like to think we were close."  
  
"You'd like to think we were? Monica, you're the only damn person I talk to outside work."  
  
"That makes for two of us, excluding Dana of course."  
  
"Even so, that's usually work related."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"And I haven't been out to eat dinner in a long time either," John admitted. Monica sighed.  
  
"Neither have I. That really was nice of you. Although..."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I don't think you'll be able to beat the drawings."  
  
"I could hear you laughing through the door. Heard you swearing about some menu too-"  
  
"You must've had your ear-"  
  
"I was curious." Monica narrowed her eyes but in a humorous manner.  
  
"Anyway, you'll never beat it. I seriously thought Tommy had been let go- Was half expecting to see a spider thing-"  
  
"Spider thing?"  
  
"Well when I got home, I was watching TV and I caught this program - called Stargate - and there were these...spider things, and when you shot them they just picked back up and kept going. I've seen it before then too... Some Australian/American show. Farscope or something."  
  
"Farscape? Monica, you watch sci-fi-tv?"  
  
"Uh...sometimes," she admitted, smiling. "Anyway, reminded me of them."  
  
"Maybe that's where Tommy got the idea."  
  
"Maybe," she replied. "Anyway, I'm glad your drawing was clean of them."  
  
"I could go draw one on if you like-"  
  
"Don't you dare!" She laughed, grabbing his arm as he went to stand and pulling him back to the couch. John grew serious all of a sudden and watched her carefully.  
  
"You know I never would, I would never want that to happen-"  
  
"It wasn't real, John," Monica reassured him. "You know that. Hey, you signed the report that said that."  
  
"Yeah I know, but your pain was real. I couldn't do anything, I-" Monica reached out and rested a hand along John's arm.  
  
"Trust me, you did plenty! There was no way Leyla was holding me down before you took over and helped me away from the house."  
  
"Yeah, well- It's what I'm paid to do, right?" They stopped and watched each other for several moments. Monica felt a desire to change the subject, and quickly.  
  
* 


	5. Chapter 5 Final

Title: Think about it.  
  
Author: Lisa Email: lc7685@hotmail.com Disclaimer: I don't own the show, characters, original idea etc. etc. Rating: PG (PG in Australia's probably the equivalent of PG-13) Category: D/R Setting: Post Scary Monsters, but no to only maybe tiny spoilers :) Notes: This is much longer than I intended. I thought it'd be a two pager. Try twenty. Meh :P I got myself drowned in fluff. Ahhhh the goodness! :D Thanks for the feedback! It's always greatly appreciated and is excellent encouragement! I wanted to look at what Monica and John would be like if they took a chance to relax a little and since I'm still getting to know the characters, they may not be as solid as some other fics, but meh, hope you enjoy nonetheless! :D FINAL PART  
  
"So, what's it feel like to be surrounded by fire?"  
  
"It was pretty cool actually. Cool as in, not hot." Monica rolled her eyes. "You would've liked it."  
  
"Mm, I'm sure."  
  
"Too bad you believe stuff too easily."  
  
"Well John, like you said, it's your job to keep me grounded. What do you think Scully did for seven years?"  
  
"Alien autopsies?" John asked, and they both laughed.  
  
"Actually, since this past week has been about what Mulder and Scully have done in the past, I think she mentioned a couple of those once."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Were they real?"  
  
"Now John, you don't really want to know, do you?"  
  
"Yeah!" Monica started laughing.  
  
"She told me that she was doing this autopsy once-"  
  
"Of an alien."  
  
"Ahuh. And she thought it was really interesting because it had two dermal layers or...whatever."  
  
"Yeah...and..."  
  
"Then she found a zipper." John chuckled.  
  
"Was the alien still wearing his coat?"  
  
"Well it was actually a serious case involving the Armed Forces and an apparent alien abduction hoax and hypnotism and all sorts-"  
  
"Didn't I read that in a book somewhere? It's sitting in the office on Scully's shelf-"  
  
"Yeah. In the book. Its Scully."  
  
"What's Scully?"  
  
"The scientist in the book. It's based on Scully. I was talking to her about it and she comes out with this story about the author and the case."  
  
"Intriguing."  
  
"So there's my Mulder and Scully story. No more Mulder and Scully stories, agreed? Especially not the mushroom story." John grinned.  
  
"But I love that story! In the ambulance at the end where they-"  
  
"How do you know that?"  
  
"I have my sources."  
  
"So come on John, what are we going to do now? You've really outdone yourself tonight."  
  
"You expect me to keep going?"  
  
"Uh...yeah!" Monica grinned. "I'm kidding, but." John wasn't sure and Monica laughed. "I promise I'm kidding."  
  
"You forgive me?"  
  
"I forgave you the moment I saw 'For Monica' written on the outside of that paper."  
  
"How'd you know it was me?" Monica leant forward, looking into his eyes.  
  
"Because you have the clearest eyes that matched the drawing... And of course the drawing was really crappy. Come on John, who else would it be?"  
  
"William," John stated. Monica raised her brow. "Oh come on, you never know!" They shared another laugh. "Well, I should go." He went to stand but Monica grabbed his arm.  
  
"Wait." She stood with him and raced back into her room, shutting the door behind her. John waited, wondering what on earth he was waiting for. Several minutes later Monica emerged with something hidden behind her back. She walked up to him and produced an envelope. "For later," she insisted, placing it in his hand. John didn't say anything and Monica leant forward, quickly kissing his cheek and pulling away. "I'll see you tomorrow?" John nodded.  
  
"Yeah, see you tomorrow." Monica led him out and closed the door as he walked to his car. She walked over to her stereo and began fiddling with it, waiting, expecting...  
  
Knock, knock.  
  
She grinned, composing herself and walking back to the front door, opening it. John was grinning, holding up what had been in the envelope.  
  
"Why does it say tomorrow night?" he asked. Monica pretended to think. "I should kick you back for that."  
  
"Don't you want it to be tomorrow night?" He shook his head.  
  
"No, I don't. I want it to be tonight." She looked at him carefully.  
  
"Really? Because I take that very seriously."  
  
"Oh yeah," John replied. "Is there any way?"  
  
"I think we can manage something-" Monica replied, taking his hand and pulling him inside, before shutting the door once again. She was about to say more when he held up his hand.  
  
"Wait." He walked into the kitchen and found a sleeping puppy magnet, using it to pin the drawing to the fridge. Monica had managed to locate a set of coloured pencils and a piece of paper and had set about the messiest, most rushed drawing of her life. All in all, she had to say it was better than John's, but art had never been his strong point. It was folded in four, and on the outside the paper read 'For John'. Opening it to full size, there was a picture of a stick figure in a skirt that resembled the ladies' room logo, and a man, in an embrace with musical notes all around it. Underneath, the caption read, 'Tomorrow Night'. John smiled as he looked it over again. Monica was waiting for him next to the stereo.  
  
"Are you sure about this?" she asked again as he approached. "I was going to give you time to think about it." John reached out his hand as he walked to her and she took it, using her free hand to insert a CD.  
  
"I'm sure," he stated, reaching over and pressing 'Play'. The introduction began and Monica moved with John into a wider space in the living room. They stood observing each other for only a moment, before Monica rested her hands on his shoulders, John's on her waist.  
  
Oceans are parted day after day And I slowly go insane I hear your voice on the line But it doesn't stop the pain  
  
If I see you next to never But how can we say forever  
  
In anticipation of the chorus, John's arms tightened around Monica as they danced and she smiled, leaning closer to facilitate it.  
  
Wherever you go Whatever you do I will be right here waiting for you Whatever it takes Or how my heart breaks I will be right here waiting for you  
  
I took for granted all the times That I thought would last somehow I hear the laughter I taste the tears But I can't get near you now Oh can't you see it baby You've got me going crazy  
  
Wherever you go Whatever you do I will be right here waiting for you Whatever it takes Or how my heart breaks I will be right here waiting for you  
  
I wonder how I can survive this moment But in the end if I'm with you I'll take the chance  
  
Oh can't you see it baby You got me going crazy  
  
Wherever you go Whatever you do I will be right here waiting for you Whatever it takes Or how my heart breaks I will be right here waiting for you  
  
As the song clicked over John realised it was a different artist.  
  
"A friend burnt it for me in New Orleans," Monica explained without him having to ask. She pulled her head back from his shoulder. "Thanks for the dance."  
  
"It was my pleasure." They locked eyes and after a while Monica realised they'd stopped moving completely. John reached out, touching her cheek with the back of his fingers briefly. Monica couldn't believe the sensation that flowed from her cheek at the contact. She involuntarily bit her lower lip.  
  
"John, we have to take this slowly, because of work and...history." John nodded. He understood. Their history was complicated, and her history with relationships wasn't good. Neither was his, but he'd only ever had one long term. There were issues, but they were quickly paling in comparison as they stood watching each other. She's beautiful, John suddenly realised as he touched her cheek and saw them tinge pink. He could almost feel the added heat.  
  
Monica couldn't remember but they somehow made it from staring at each other in the living room to staring at each other in the doorway.  
  
"Goodnight, Monica," John stated. She nodded, smiling.  
  
"G'night." Neither of them made an effort to go anywhere. John, finally, took a step forward.  
  
"You know how you said there are two types of close. Are there two different types of slow?" he asked. Monica wet her lips briefly with her tongue without realising. John smiled. If that was any indication of what she was feeling...  
  
"There's slow," she stated plainly. "Then there's sloooow," she drew it out. "And then there's, uh, not so slow." She looked up and he was still moving closer. She bridged the gap and he kissed her, his hand running up the back of her neck and resting in her hair, running it through his fingers as she kissed him back, one hand on his cheek, the other by her side. John pulled back for only a moment, and the next kiss was so soft Monica barely felt it - though she was still recovering from the first and probably couldn't tell. His lips brushed across hers and she smiled as he pulled back.  
  
"Mon," he whispered as they watched each other. It was an acknowledgment that this was, in fact, Monica Reyes. It really was. His fingers left her hair and they stood opposite each other.  
  
"I'll see you tomorrow John." It was Monica's turn to acknowledge that this really happened and that there were no regrets. There weren't.  
  
"Bye Monica," John replied, walking to his car. This time she didn't close the door until he'd driven away.  
  
* Scully cornered John before Monica arrived the next morning.  
  
"So?" she asked. John looked up sharply. What did she know?  
  
"So what?" was the obvious reply.  
  
"Did you work it out with Monica? I don't want the two of you snapping at each other all day. Or worse, ignoring each other."  
  
"No, we, uh, worked it out." Scully arched that eyebrow again.  
  
"What did you do?"  
  
"I just told her that I hadn't meant that I didn't like her as who she was, kinda thing..." Scully was looking at him suspiciously and he felt the need to cover. "You know, like you said. I told her that what and how I did it didn't matter because why I did it was for her. I told her if it would save her life, I'd believe and I'd do anything." Scully patted his shoulder.  
  
"Good work. The two of you are best friends. I'd hate to see something like ideology come between you."  
  
"I don't expect it to be a problem any longer," John replied as Monica breezed in. If she hadn't entered, Scully would have questioned John further. He seemed very certain all of a sudden...  
  
"Good morning Dana. Morning John."  
  
"Hi Monica," Scully began. "Nice to see you bright and early. Sleep in did we?"  
  
"I got to sleep late."  
  
"How come?"  
  
"Coffee," she lied. Well, partly lied. She had been awake because of the coffee, which had given her time to think. Time to think about John. And that had kept her awake much longer than she had anticipated. She caught herself before smiling and put on a tired expression. "Bad late night choice." John stood.  
  
"Bad late night choice, excellent early morning choice. Scully?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Wanna get us some coffee?" John asked, grinning. Scully looked up, surprised but laughed nonetheless.  
  
"You're on lunches again."  
  
"Sure. If Skinner doesn't have us on a plane before then."  
  
"All right," Scully replied, standing and grabbing her purse as she disappeared outside the office.  
  
"John, you could've gone to get the coffee," Monica stated light-heartedly as she took a seat at her desk, setting up for the day. There was a long reply as John fielded a telephone call from Skinner.  
  
"No, I couldn't have. I had as little sleep as you, remember? Possibly less." They smiled at each other. "How about we eat in tonight? My place." Monica nodded, smiling.  
  
"I'd like that," she replied. "What have we got today?"  
  
"Well for the last half hour I've been staring at a file on a possessed dog in Connecticut."  
  
"That could be interesting... Then again, it's probably just got rabies."  
  
"Looks like we're stuck in Washington another day." John pretended to sigh and Monica smiled.  
  
"What are you two so happy about?" Scully asked, returning with three coffees. "Lucky the line was short upstairs."  
  
"No cases yet," John answered. "Thanks."  
  
"There's always a case." Scully opened the filing cabinet and found a file. "See all these? Unsolved. That's why they're here." She threw one on John's desk. "Witches. Go see Skinner and solve it."  
  
"Yes boss," John replied dryly. "Monica, wanna come?"  
  
"Sure. I'll meet you in the lobby, k?" John left and Monica walked over to Scully. "Did you say anything to him yesterday?"  
  
"Yeah," Scully replied. "I told him to think about it."  
  
"About what?"  
  
"Think about why he believed in what he did when he did." Monica's brow creased.  
  
"Why's that?" Monica asked, pretending as though she didn't know. She had to find out how much Scully knew.  
  
"Well I thought that answer would be obvious seeing as you're both okay." When Monica just kept looking at her Scully realised she'd have to spell it out. "You're why, Mon. You. You two are close." She paused, before smiling. "Think about it." Scully stood and left for Quantico, leaving Monica standing in the office, thinking about it. Close. Two types: close partners, close friends. Now they were both. Now they were just 'close'. She grinned to herself, glancing around the office and focussing on the 'I want to believe' poster, before turning and walking up to meet John outside Skinner's office.  
  
The End 


End file.
